The Floating Nation, Gonzagas

Dreams - Reyza Contaga

The whirls and hums of large propellers sound through the sky as they pass over the tallest mountain ranges. Water sprays into mist, trailing through the clouds as the large floating landmass slowly passes. Deep inside the crawling cave-like underbelly of this landmass, a woman stands among a line of men, shoveling precious minerals into a large line of furnaces. In turn, these furnaces create large amounts of energy to be manipulated. In her ears she listens to melodies and harmonies created by her friends, even the words they sing are ones of her own writing. Her dirtied skin glistened from the heated room, Her now grey hair clung to her head and face, no matter how much she tried to shove it up into her helmet, it would always fall out during her shifts. The large open-air vents, a.k.a. windows, were no match for the heat created by these countless furnaces. She stood straight, wiping the sweat away from her forehead, stopping the constant drip down her face. She paused, taking her earbud out of one ear, as she saw the inspector approach. She felt the strain and pain in her lower back as she stretched. She questioned her decision about even being there, to begin with. She knew that in order to realize her dreams of becoming a knight, she had to become stronger. She imagined that training for the knighthood would be difficult for her, much harder than shoveling hot furnaces every day, especially as not many women ended up going that route. Especially of her… caliber.

“Zoning there, eh? the inspector said in passing, just as dirty and sweaty as she was. “Ay, Yeah, you know, wondering why I'm here…” she muttered in a half-laugh, the man laughed with her as he continued down the line, checking furnaces. She had, after all, chosen to be there, actually fought, to be there. Tooth and nail. The alarms rang loudly, passing through her other earbud. This told her that her shift was finally over for the day. The week, to be more specific, meant one thing: PAYDAY! whoot-whoot! She set her shovel down next to the furnace and walked towards the long line of open holes, showing the clear blue sky outside, the sun just starting to cast setting rays on all the dark Gallow's walls. As she walked closer to the Gallow's workers' offices, she removed her goggles down her face to hang around her neck, her bright purple eyes fell towards her destination. She followed others into a natural line of men, inching closer to the main office where they all clocked in and out, took their pay, and received their schedules for the next week. Standing in silence, she became lost in her thoughts, she felt as if she were drowning in a sea of testosterone. She hated this day for this reason. Other days she would make a straight shot to the outer stairs to exit out of the gallows, a large outer staircase that lead up to the surface. She was exhausted and glad for the weekend. She planned for a lot of sleep and salt baths to soothe her muscles. Just then, she felt the ground shake deeply beneath her boots. Looking up, everyone acted the same, as if nothing was going on. Not out of the normal, at least, everyone was used to these tremors. For some reason, she wasn't, she hated them. When she was younger, she would cry and try to run up, screaming and shaking. The nuns would tell her it was common and all it was, was just turbulent air that we traveled through, causing the lands to shake. Everyone was used to it. She didn't know why she disliked them so, but something of a panic would consume her.

As she was deep in thought, her turn came up to enter the office with a group of others waiving hellos and goodbyes. It was the end of the week, so, of course, everyone was livelier. She walked to the time clock tracker, found her card, and punched it. Putting it back, she squeezed between the men without touching a single one. Hell, she wondered if they even knew she was there. Her shorter, yet slim and curvy stature helped her to her own benefit for once. However, with everything else, she wanted to be bigger, sturdier, and stronger. She was, however, bigger and sturdier than most women. She really didn't fit in anywhere. Everyone was bustling, chattering, laughing, and going about their excitement for their weekends, going in and out of the office. As they were receiving their paychecks from the numerous accounting personnel, Reyza was developing a headache as she found her pay personnel. Stepping up to him, he looked up at her, looked back down, adjusting his glasses, "Evening Contaga, ready for the weekend?"

"Yessir," she said, her eyes following his fingers over the envelopes, he pulled out her pay, handing it to her. "Thanks," she said as she slinked away, not even giving him a chance to respond. Her senses were heightened as she stepped between the rest of the workers, clutching her pay as others were nodding to her and saying goodbye for the week, though she was trying to remain unseen. After she exited the office, she headed to the women's restroom on the corner of where the offices were. the only one in the Gallows. They created it for her. She went in and locked the door, she headed to the locker to retrieve her bag. She placed her earbuds in it and her goggles. As she left the restroom, she decided to stop by the lower control room. There, the older members of the Gallows worked. She looked up to some of the men that worked in this area; if her dream of knighthood couldn't be realized, she had hoped she could rise to the ranks of these men. They were all actual steppers, as not everyone is. The majority of those on this continent were not gifted with stepping. However, everyone was either a child, mother, father, sister, or a brother to a stepper. It was a rule that earth walkers were not allowed to live among them in the skies. Too much bad blood. She rounded a corner and came to a less busy area. She walked down a dimly lit hall into a room with lights, screens, computer modules, levers, buttons, and knobs. The room was aglow. There were about four men sitting in chairs and standing next to gauges and panels.

"Hey Alan!" she said, slapping the back of an older white-haired man sitting at some older-looking screens. She knew enough about this area to know that these screens showed their altitude levels. The lines represented their flight paths, measurements, and mappings of the land below. Very rarely did they ever break below the cloud mass, so this was ever her only view of the mainlands below.

"ehmm-mm," the white-haired man muttered in an annoyed grunt. She giggled as she walked further into the room.

"Hey Rey, how's been your week? Keepin' them furnaces hot enough?" Asked Alan, who stood further in the room at another panel of screens and switches.

"You know it," she said with a smile. "how are the controls today? she asked. She looked up at the output, which was a large illuminated screen that showed a big 46% on it. They had been hovering around this level for quite some time. Of course, she knew because she often visited this room during the week. She found it amazing how these devices worked. Yet there was so much she didn't understand or know. She knew these devices were manipulated by one man at a given time, and that man was our great king. He was so powerful they say he keeps us afloat with little effort. That's a concept she was so interested in. She had heard over the years about how some powerful air-steppers could manipulate small items to larger items. If the king alone, a single air stepper, was able to hold this whole nation, he must be some kind of untouchable god. Maybe one day she could meet him if she became the first female knight, she thought with a whim as she looked at Alan. "Well, you know, same ol', same ol'" He said with a sigh. Just then another tremor shook them, sending the familiar chill of unease up through her feet and up her spine. "mmh..n mmh"... came a grunt from the older disgruntled white-haired man, shifting in his seat. A man with a toolbox was twisting wires and attaching them to bigger circuits in the floor underneath the panels shot his head up, "Come on now Falco, calm down, we ain't fallin'." he said with a pang of gentle sarcasm. "What do you mean?" She asked, turning and looking at Falco. She didn't know much about him, except that he was always quiet and very grumpy. He never seemed to mind her, actually he never really acknowledged her. He is also ALWAYS here, like, always, day or night. No one really crossed him, but it also helped that he was an actual stepper. Alan piped in, "Don't worry about it Rey, Falco has just had some bad experiences in his long life, it's not worth bringing up."

Rayza always respected Alan, he was the first Gallower she ever spoke to. She remembered seeing most females from the monastery become hookers and low-end workers in the Back City. She never wanted to become that herself. Plus, the monastery held her secret too, so they always taught her that she should aim for higher in her life, so she did. Alan used to work the admissions for the Gallows in the field. She would come like clockwork, every 3 or so months, to apply for the Gallows work. She was scrawny, short, and, well, a female. All the things that are opposite of what the Gallows needed and recruited for. She was determined, however, and bugged Alan as often as she could, until one day in her mid-teens, he just stood up, looked her up and down, and said she would run supply errands. she was thrilled, she finally had a way to stay out of the streets. the work was hard, running down dark cave-like tunnels, rolling carts and back-bags became her friends for a long time. It took her a total of five years just to earn the rights to work the furnaces.

"wha are you doing here anyways? he asked, "arent you off? It's your weekend little girl, go enjoy yourself, hmm?" she smirked as she proceeded to leave the room. "Ohh I plan on it. Sleep and food." after saying goodnight, she went straight to the outer staircase.

This was a long set of zig-zagging stairs that led to the surface of the continent. Walking along the path for roughly ten minutes, she reached a set of two buildings that stretched far, at least one-hundred rooms. She headed to her living quarters, looking at the sky, she breathed in deep the fresh air. It had just passed dusk as she started to climb another set of stairs. She paused. Looking around to make sure she was alone, she ensured her bag was secured, she lifted off the ground. Hovering upward, she landed on the top stair platform. she smirked and the sensation of lightness left her and she became heavy again. She, too, was an air stepper.